Nothing of Settling, Surviving or Secrets
by Patience Tyme1
Summary: His body reeked of frustration. Was it because of their secret? Did he fear the stand that they might have to make? He gave her that look-that same look in them as she had seen in the kitchen of their funeral home-and she knew there was no secret to begin with. Short one-shot preview for SSTL 2, as prompted by Bethyl Week. Piece can be enjoyed with or without having read SSTL!


**Welcome to the first piece in my Bethyl Week series! For those of you who haven't heard, Sheriff Greene from Tumblr has structured a series of prompts and songs intended to inspire Bethylers to come together and create various items to celebrate our beloved ship together! **

**My contribution to the event will be a series of stand-alone Drabbles and One-shots that revolve around my currently completed, full-length Bethyl fic called Settling Surviving, Thriving, Living. A few of the pieces will be some of my favorite scenes lifted from the story and rewritten and altered to fit the prompt word of the day for the event. Others, like the one to follow, will actually be a glimpse into the sequel I am in the course of planning and writing :-) **

**I've chosen to take this avenue, partially because I'm just not ready to let go of certain moments from 4B, but also as a thank you to the readers who stuck through SSTL from beginning to end. This is particularly true in the case of these previews, as I've had several reviewers admit that they are impatient for a return to SSTL fiction. **

**That being said, the pieces can be experienced both by those who have already read SSTL and those who have not; they stand on their own and are able to be enjoyed independently. **

When Daryl returned to her, she was quick to slide up next to him, the chill of the air hitting her and forcing her to call out for his inherent warmth. She felt her eyes droop; it was clear—the request they were trying to make, but she declined it, as she forced them open once more, to focus on him instead.

He was staring at the ceiling, his hands twitching and fidgeting where they rest on his torso. Even if his body language hadn't screamed frustration, she knew she would've been able to feel it—literally _feel _it, as it continued to roll off of him in waves, serving to tighten her throat in worry for him.

Beth suspected his insecurities were creeping in on him, whispering to him. Any myriad of topics could've surfaced, as she thought back on all of the struggles he had suffered throughout his life. Despite his agreement to follow her into this position, she knew he wasn't completely convinced—that he might always be in need of a reminding that he deserved her, that she thought him worthy of the leap of faith required for this commitment.

She wondered if he thought this had happened too quickly, as her own insecurities whispered to her, told her that she might not be enough for a man of Daryl's experience.

No, she thought, as she worked to shut them down; this wasn't about her. It was about him. If he had concerns that they had moved too quickly, she felt certain he was blaming himself, as she had discovered that was simply naturally his default setting.

Briefly, she contemplated assuaging this pressing upon him. But something checked her impulse at the last moment, as his eyes shifted to look outside the nearby window. One hand was brought to his mouth as he proceeded to chew on the skin at his thumb, as he tended to do.

Somewhere in the transaction, she believed his focus had changed. He thought now of not only returning to the camp, but of the potential weight that could be brought on by the reveal of their secret.

As quick as the word came to her—_secret_—she didn't like it. Beth didn't consider what they had—the closeness they had developed—to necessarily be a secret.

It was clear to her that several members of the group were already in the process of perceiving a fundamental change between them. Carol would not be reacting as she was—as if a responsibility had been forcefully stripped from her—had that not been the case.

Maggie had afforded her some evidence of her suspicion as well, in the earlier argument between them that served as one sister's defense of her failure to mention the other in her Terminus signage. In the course of the argument, Maggie had made the assumption that Beth and Daryl had developed a reliance on one another, to the point where the oldest Greene believed it had been Daryl who had managed to persuade her previously unassuming sister into making a stand—a stand against a sister that, Beth thought, everyone seemed to suspect and consider as the far stronger of the pair.

Technically, since they had failed to declare things to the others, since they had been coy in their affections since their reunion just the previous day, she supposed what they had was a _secret_. But she rather thought they had earned it. After all the trials and tribulations of the previous week spent in forced separation, did they not deserve a meager amount of privacy?

She knew Daryl was not one for publically declaring his private life. Neither was she—it was yet another thing they had in common. Therefore, she felt relatively certain that they felt similarly on this issue—that what they had was to be cherished, between just the two of them.

Beth would obviously seek to tell the others at some point in the future. She cherished privacy, but she was far from ashamed of what they had; she would not hide it, as if it were a skeleton in her closet, meant only for a periodical dusting when it returned to torture the soul once again.

But, at the same time, she was not going to underestimate the intelligence of their family; neither one of them had been necessarily subtle or secret in their interactions of the last two days. Beth rather suspected, with time, the secret would reveal itself.

Was that cowardly? She couldn't be quite certain, but she rather thought not. Was it cowardly to cherish this? For them to enjoy it just between the two of them, before the others inevitably put together the puzzle?

And what would happen then, she wondered? When their secret was out, when all was revealed, what would the others say? Would it affect Daryl's thoughts on the matter? She was willing to make a stand on the issue, should one become necessary, but it was no secret that he struggled with standing up for what he wanted, for what he _deserved_—most often because he struggled with the concept that he deserved anything to begin with.

Her eyes drew from his previous point of attention of the window back to him. She suffered no consternation in the least at what she found there; it was, she thought, almost as if she had expected it. His eyes were set to her, that same look in them as she had seen in the kitchen of their funeral home—that very same look he had shared with her with growing frequency since they had been reunited.

It told her so many things, as his eyes always did. He would make his stand with her, should it be required. Worry seemed to be of little consequence to him in that moment, as his eyes continued to hold hers and take in everything she had to offer. As a result, she offered up everything she had to give—nothing of settling or surviving or secrets, but a determination to declare, to thrive and live…_together_.


End file.
